August 25, 2008

The Fate of the Mojave Tortoise
 
The Democratic National Convention can wait. The Mojave Tortoise is more important.

Alarm bells are ringing, thanks to the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, that Mojave Tortoises, one of the most important and beautiful creatures in the southwestern U.S. ecosystem, are experiencing a sharp decline in population throughout the western states.

These enchanting reptiles live to be about 100 years old on average and grow to be over a foot long. They crawl slowly, their hods bob up and down, and their shining eyes are full of wisdom. But their declining numbers are reason for distress. Thankfully, they have been designated an a "threatened species" and are protected under the federal government's Endangered Species Act. Most states, too, have strict laws protecting the Mojave Tortoises.

These laws, however, do not always protect the tortoises from natural and human-made threats. Roy Averill-Murray, who is the desert tortoise recovery coordinator for the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, told the Associated Press: "We know for a fact a lot of localized populations have suffered dramatic declines. From that, it's probably not too big a leap to think it's probably at least somewhat true across the board."

In Utah, the Mojave Tortoise population has plunged from 3,200 in 2000 to 1,700 last year, according to a biologist with the Utah Division of Wildlife Resources -- the lowest point since 1998, when the state began monitoring the tortoises. The same story seems to be unfolding in other states, especially in California, where similar declines have been noted by state and federal agencies.

 "There are places in the western Mojave Desert where the tortoise is wiped out completely," Mark Massar, a wildlife biologist with the Bureau of Land Management, told The Desert Sun (of Palm Springs, California).

What accounts for this decline in the Mojave Tortoise population? There are several factors, many of them natural. As Massar points out, there is an upper respiratory tract disease akin to the flu that has killed many of them. There are also predators, such as ravens, that pose a threat to the tortoise population (ravens devour the baby tortoises and can spread diseases). Wildfires, too, have proven deadly to the population.

But there are also complications related to growth that are destroying the Mojave Tortoises. They get hit by cars, driven out by condominiums and landfills and highway expansion. Earlier this month, park rangers at Joshua Tree National Park in California found the burned remains of a 45-year-old Mojave Tortoise in a campfire grate and they're currently investigating how it got there.

Similarly, The Boston Globe reported earlier this year that the federal government spent $8.7 million to relocate 760 Mojave Tortoises away from the U.S. Army's National Training Center at Fort Irwin, California (which is located just north of San Bernardino). The move was underway by March of this year. Unfortunately, the wildlife biologists working on the project did anticipate a threat to the tortoises in their new habitat from coyotes. As the report published in the Globe (that originally appeared in the L.A. Times) noted:

So far, at least 14 translocated adult tortoises and 14 resident tortoises in the area have been killed and eaten by coyotes, according to biologists monitoring survival rates of the reptiles, many of which were fitted with radio transmitters. In a related problem, 15 of 70 baby tortoises collected at the training center as part of the relocation have died of various causes, Army officials said.

The report also noted that a team of "military sharpshooters" was brought in to eradicate a "rogue clan of coyotes" that threatened the tortoise population. Michael Connor of the California-based Western Watersheds Project raised a valid concern: "These aren't rogue coyotes. They're just coyotes trying to make a living in the desert. Now they want to shoot them. Fine. But what happens if there are unforeseen implications from wiping out the region's top predator, like an explosion of rabbits and rats?"

The Mojave Tortoises are in an especially precarious position because they're so slow and their living space is very limited, so even picking up one of them and moving her or him a distance -- like the U.S. Army did -- can be destructive. Randy Babb, an Arizona wildlife biologist, put it in especially stark and unforgettable terms: "Relocating an animal is like me breaking into your bedroom at 3 a.m. and dropping you off in a village in New Guinea and saying you'll be OK because this is where people live."

 While stringent state and federal laws prohibit people from removing the tortoises from their natural habitat, people still take them away in violation of the law. Earlier this month, the Arizona Daily Star (Tucson) described an adoption program at the Arizona-Sonora Museum in Tucson that is searching for homes for 30 desert tortoises who have been illegally snatched from their homes by human passersby and then eventually abandoned.

It is a highly worthwhile program, and it highlights the fact that there are a lot of wonderful, hard working individuals all over the West who are trying to save this most precious of creatures. Unfortunately, these caring people often work with small budgets and limited resources.

Which is where the Democratic National Convention comes in: Hopefully the Democrats will use this opportunity in Denver -- a city right smack in the middle of a delicate western ecosystem -- to establish themselves as the party of environment, dedicated to protecting animal and plant life across America. Sadly, most (but certainly not all) of their Republican foes have been dedicated to the policy of growth for the sake of growth. But as the late, great Edward Abbey so eloquently put it, "Growth for the sake of growth is the ideology of the cancer cell."

What will Barack Obama -- or, for that matter, John McCain -- do for the Mojave Tortoise? As silly as that question may seem on the surface, its answer determines the ultimate fate of America's delicate ecosystem, the future of which hangs in the balance.